A Fourth to Remember
by pipermca
Summary: Wheeljack finds out about a human holiday that involves fireworks, and decides to make a TINY improvement to the celebrations.


In the nine months since they had been brought back online, the Autobots had been exposed to a remarkable number of aspects of Earth culture. And one of the most interesting facets, to most of the bots, were the holidays.

Halloween had been the first holiday they had experienced after befriending Sparkplug and Spike. It had been a bewildering assortment of activities, at least to Prowl. Sideswipe and Bumblebee had jumped right in, though, demanding treats and donning disguises. At least the holiday had some aspects in similar with the Festival of the Lost Light, in that it seemed to honour the dead – albeit in a strange way.

Prowl took a passing interest in the upcoming holidays, in as much as they altered humans' usual behaviours, which in turn might affect his strategies. Thanksgiving revolved around ingesting large quantities of food and watching sporting events. Christmas was a contradictory mix of generosity and greed, and somehow involved miniature humanoids and flying caribou. New Year's Eve simply marked the passage of time, something that Prowl could understand, even if the time marker of one year seemed strangely short to him.

Spike was the source of much of the Autobots' information about the various holidays. He was the one who explained that the cardoid-like shapes he was cutting out of paper represented a human's blood circulation pump ("No, a **heart**," Spike had said), and Jazz had immediately made the comparison of Valentine's Day with Chosen One's Day. Spike also explained that hiding boiled, painted avian eggs and eating rodent-shaped chocolates somehow had something to do with the resurrection of a deity, although Spike was a little unclear on what the connection was between them.

By the time summer rolled around, Spike had become the Unofficial Human Holiday Party Planner, and was basically given carte blanche to organize celebrations as he saw fit. He had no lack of volunteers to help him pull off the various parties. Often all he had to do was ask, and Autobots would jump at the chance to help him out in whatever capacity they could.

Prowl saw no problems with anyone helping out, so long as the party planning didn't interfere with their regular duties. In fact, the planning seemed to raise morale just as much as the actual celebrations did.

So when Spike announced that the next holiday would be the accurately-named "Fourth of July," Prowl did not suspect that anything was amiss. And why would he? The holiday seemed innocuous enough: a picnic with various foods in the afternoon, outdoor games of skill and teamwork, and some sort of display that would be lit up after the sun set. Spike and his helpers seemed to have it well in hand, and so Prowl paid little attention to the preparations for the holiday.

As the sun vanished behind the mountains on the evening of the fourth day of July, Prowl lounged on the hill beside Jazz and a few other members of the command staff. They were watching some of the other Autobots and their human friends play a game that involved throwing curved pieces of metal at a pole sunk in the ground. The minibots had proven to be remarkably skilled at this particular game, although there had been some heated discussion over whether Windcharger had cheated on his turn.

When it became clear that none of the arguments would become larger problems, Prowl shunted all of his ongoing tactical analyses into secondary processor threads, and simply sat and bot-watched. Music filtered through the air, a light mix of Cybertronian and Earth music curated by Blaster and Jazz. The filtered energon Sideswipe had procured (with permission!) for the picnic was delicious.

Prowl felt... He felt... Prowl grasped for the word he was looking for.

"Relaxin', ain't it?" asked Jazz languidly.

Of course Jazz would pick up on Prowl's mood. Prowl smiled at Jazz and nodded. "It is," he said.

Just then, the discussion that had been going on a short distance away grew louder. Prowl refocused his attention, but realized that the bots talking were not the ones playing the game, but were sitting nearby. "What do you mean, you're not the one who ordered it?" Ratchet asked, his voice rising in alarm.

"I never said I ordered it," Perceptor replied. "And if you didn't order it either, that means..."

Ratchet and Perceptor stared at each other in disbelief.

"What's the problem, science bots?" Jazz asked, having overheard the same discussion that Prowl had. "Sounds like you've got some kind of emergency brewin'."

"Maybe," Ratchet said. He glanced at Perceptor again before continuing. "There was a requisition for fuses and explosive caps in our inventory listing a few weeks ago. Rocket fuel. Steel pipes. Timers."

Prowl stared at Ratchet, a crawling dread coming over him. The sky had darkened, and the first stars began to appear overhead. "And?" he prompted when Ratchet hesitated.

Ratchet lifted his arms in a shrug. "I didn't ask for them. I assumed Perceptor had." The two scientists exchanged another look. "But neither of us did, which meant it must have come from..."

"Attention all Autobots and human guests!" said an amplified voice from down the hill, cutting over the music. "Turn your optics skyward for the best dang fireworks display you have ever seen!"

Prowl's head snapped around, and focused on Wheeljack. Even in the growing darkness, Prowl could see that the engineer held a device of some kind in his hand. Wheeljack turned and gestured across the field where the Autobots had set up their picnic, and Prowl's gaze followed.

Neatly lined up across the field was a veritable forest of small rockets. Prowl quickly counted at least three hundred rockets, even as he was opening an emergency comm line to Wheeljack. ::Wheeljack, don't-::

Before Prowl could finish his order, his optics were assaulted by the flare of several hundred rocket engines firing simultaneously, and launching into the air.

::Sorry, Prowl, what were you saying?::

::Where are those rockets going? What is their payload?:: Prowl asked, opening the channel to all of the command staff. After a moment he added Bluestreak into the channel, and the gunner sent an acceptance ping to the hail, tacking on a glyph of confusion.

::They're just fireworks, Prowl. Spike explained them to me. They're traditional.:: Wheeljack's answer came through with a short pack of photos of colourful starbursts in darkened skies.

::Did you use the same designs as the human fireworks, or did you modify them?:: Ratchet's voice cut through the discussion, helpfully focusing on what Prowl was worried about.

Wheeljack sounded just a little hurt in his reply. ::I used the same designs.:: There was a pregnant pause. ::I just made them a **tiny** bit better, that's all.::

Prowl quickly decided that there was no time to find out exactly what Wheeljack qualified as a 'tiny' improvement. ::Bluestreak, is there any way you can shoot them down before they detonate?:: Prowl asked.

Prowl could see the gunner sitting further down the hill's slope, next to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, watching the rockets rise into the air. ::There's no way for me to take down all of them. I don't have enough ammo on me for that. I mean, you're the one who told me that I didn't need to come fully armed to a holiday picnic after the last one. And even if I did have enough ammo, I couldn't control where the debris fell. What if it fell onto a town, or a road? That might cause an even larger problem. But they're just fireworks, right? Wheeljack explained them to me earlier to warn me that they'd be loud and bright. He said they're pretty much harmless. They **are** harmless, right?::

Carleigh, who was sitting beside Ratchet on the ground, spoke. She had obviously been unaware of the rapid-fire discussions happening around her over the comm lines. "Weird," Carleigh said, her eyes fixed on the rockets. "Normal fireworks usually start exploding by now. Those shells are going really high into the air."

And then the sky lit up.

Everywhere he looked, Prowl saw colours and lights. Star-shaped explosions. Brilliant bursts that sizzled audibly as the streamers fell back down. Lights that twinkled erratically before going out. Multi-coloured eruptions that opened into a barrage of floral-like trails.

All around him, he heard oohs and aahs from the humans, and startled exclamations from the Autobots. Beside him, Jazz relaxed, sending Prowl a quick comparison of the images Wheeljack had sent them, and the display occurring overhead. ::Looks pretty good, Jackie. Ya done good.::

::Agreed. This is spectacular. Well done.:: With that, Optimus Prime dropped out of the conversation. One by one, the command staff disconnected from the comm line until only Prowl and Jazz were left on the channel.

"Maybe it is ok, after all," Perceptor said, still sounded slightly uncertain. The scientist then made a sound of delight at one particularly bright explosion. "Oh, now that was an interesting one! I wonder how he designed that particular shell."

Jazz nudged Prowl with his elbow and leaned close to his audial. "I guess Wheeljack's just full of surprises, huh?" he asked.

"I suppose so," Prowl said, still watching the fireworks. He felt a little bad about immediately jumping to the worst possible conclusion about what Wheeljack had planned. After all, it wasn't as if **all** of the engineer's plans went awry. Prowl made a mental note to offer Wheeljack a formal apology after the picnic.

Prowl wasn't sure how long a regular fireworks display lasted, but Wheeljack had apparently planned for both extravagance and length. Just as one particularly bright flash streaked across the sky from left to right, about thirty minutes into the display, there was another hail on the command frequency. ::Yes, Blaster, what is it?:: Prowl replied.

The communications officer had been handling the audio entertainment for the picnic, and was still seated across the field at the sound system the Autobots had set up. ::I'm picking up a bit of a commotion on the human radio frequencies. About ten minutes ago I started getting chatter from Washington, Ottawa, Havana, Reykjavik...:: There was a pause. ::But now it's spreading. I'm picking up calls from Beijing, Paris, Lima...::

::What are they saying, Blaster?:: Optimus Prime asked. Prowl continued to stare up at the display overhead, his sense of dread returning.

::It's a bit confused, but I think that the fireworks aren't just local. It sounds like they're going off all around the planet.::

::Of course they are!:: Wheeljack broke into the conversation. ::It wouldn't be fair to keep a display this awesome to ourselves, now would it?::

::Is this the small improvement you referred to earlier?:: Prowl asked.

::Yup!:: Wheeljack sounded quite pleased with himself. ::Like I said, it was just a really small tweak to the design.::

::Wheejack, ya know that this holiday isn't worldwide, right? That only the United States celebrates it?:: Jazz asked.

There was a long pause before Wheeljack replied. ::Err, no. Spike didn't mention that! All these other holidays were celebrated in a lot of other places on the planet, so I just thought...::

Optimus's voice came over the comm line once more. ::Blaster, please reassure our human friends that this display was intentional, and that no harm was meant by it. We will address any individual concerns later. In the meantime... Let's enjoy the rest of the show.::

* * *

"All right," Optimus Prime said, sounding tired. "Prowl, please run through the responses again, beginning with those who were most upset."

Prowl glanced down at his datapad. "The Soviet Union has registered a formal complaint with the United Nations. They insist that the fireworks were simply a way for the United States to show off their new weapon capabilities." Prowl looked back up at Optimus. "Their ambassador has requested a formal meeting between you and the President to discuss the issue."

Optimus rubbed his thumb between his optics, but nodded. "All right, please set up the meeting. Next?"

"We've had two requests for information on how the worldwide fireworks were accomplished," Prowl said, moving on to the next item. "China has asked for information on how the fireworks were made so that they were visible during the day." He looked up at Wheeljack. "They want to use them for Chinese New Year."

"Is that different than regular New Year?" Ironhide asked.

"Apparently," said Prowl. "Additionally, both China and Brazil want to know how the delivery systems were scaled for high-altitude and worldwide deployment. Brazil would like to use them for something called Mardi Gras."

"What's that?" Ratchet asked.

"It's a music, costume, feasting and dancing festival that takes place before the Lenten season," Prowl said, ignoring Jazz's perk of interest. "Wheeljack?"

Wheeljack was already making a note to himself. "Right, right. I'll get the schematics together and send everyone a copy of the booster devices and the incendiary shells."

"These 'improved' fireworks can't be weaponized, can they?" Red Alert asked, a deep frown creasing his face.

"Red, anything can be weaponized if ya put yer mind to it," Jazz replied. His response did not appear to mollify Red Alert's anxiety.

Optimus, who had been listening quietly, nodded at Prowl again. "Is there anything else?"

Prowl looked down at his datapad again. "There were a variety of smaller complaints. A few doomsday sects apparently took the fireworks as a sign that the end of the world was coming. Some astronomical observations had to be postponed because the fireworks lit up the sky too much, and one communications satellite was damaged." He looked back up. "But we also received one thank you, from Canada, for the belated Canada Day celebration."

"Was that all?" Optimus asked. When Prowl nodded, he looked around the table. "I hope we've learned an important lesson here, in that we are guests on this planet. The humans' customs may have intricacies that we are not immediately aware of, and we should think carefully before acting." He looked around the table again, then stood up. "Dismissed."

"Why did we all get the lecture when it was Wheeljack who tweaked the darn things?" grumbled Ironhide on his way out of the room.

"So, Prowl," Jazz drawled, leaning on the table next to Prowl as the tactician gathered his things. "Tell me more about this Mardi Gras thing, and why I haven't heard of it before."

Prowl shrugged. "You'll have to ask Spike why he didn't mention it, but I suspect it's a regional holiday, like the Harmonia in Polyhex."

Jazz's visor brightened. "You know about Harmonia?"

"Indeed. I even attended it twice. It was an interesting event," Prowl said. He picked up his stack of datapads and began walking towards the door of the meeting room. "I did some research on Mardi Gras, since I thought it might pique your interest. We can plan to attend next year in Rio de Janeiro, assuming our duties allow us to." He threw a glance and a small smile at Jazz. "If you think you'd be interested, that is."

Jazz stopped in his tracks. "If you think I'd be...!" Then he caught Prowl's expression and laughed. "Yes, Prowler. I'm interested." He began walking down the hallway beside Prowl and grinned. "So, I figured out they've got fireworks at Mardi Gras, but tell me about the music."

**A/N: **Happy Fourth of July to all my neighbours to the south! :)


End file.
